


Part of Him Died With Her

by thestagandthewolf



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Explicit Language, How he gets over Lyanna, Lyanna Stark mentioned, Pre-A Game of Thrones, Robert and his whores, Robert being a bad king, a tiny bit of sexual content, just a little, mention of Lyanna's death, so many feels
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-02
Updated: 2016-11-02
Packaged: 2018-08-28 13:46:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,604
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8448301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestagandthewolf/pseuds/thestagandthewolf
Summary: Robert won the throne but lost the girl. This is how he deals with it. By which I mean this is how he avoids dealing with the grief and pain.





	

“Where is the King?” Jon Arryn entered the Small Council meeting, but was stopped in his tracks before he had gotten even two steps in. It wasn’t hard to notice that Robert was missing, his face was not one easily passed over especially not in a room with so few people. This was their first Small Council meeting since Robert had taken the crown and the Kingdom, and Jon expected their new King to be there to try and piece the land back together. But, not for the first time and certainly not the last, Jon Arryn was disappointed by his ward’s decision.

“Where he always is,” It was Stannis who answered, clearly annoyed by his brother’s absence, perhaps more so than even Jon. Sighing, the Hand turned and left the room heading in search of their absent king.

Meanwhile there was quite a ruckus coming from the King’s Chambers, caused by none other than Robert himself. His bed was large, as befitted a King but somehow it seemed smaller with the four of them in it together. King Robert lay surrounded by three beautiful women each giggling and listing off a series of compliments and affirmations. Sure, he was paying them to say as such, and it was their job to act as if they were the happiest they had ever been, but that didn’t matter because at least Robert could pretend that his life was joyous for one afternoon. There were no clothes in sight, the blankets of the bed were balled up in the floor somewhere, but they were not chilled. The windows were thrown open letting in the warm summer air, and their heated breaths and racing hearts were enough to keep them warm even in the dead of winter. Robert couldn’t stand to be cold these days. Being cold reminded him of the North and that lead his mind back to her, and whenever his mind landed on her he would become destructive. It was better to stay warm and keep his mind occupied on other pleasurable sources. 

Wine helped as well. Robert almost always had a cup in his hand, filling his body with alcohol to numb the pain and fade his memories. Today Robert and the girls had brought the wine bottle to bed with them, combining his two favourite new -but also old- past times. The Blonde was currently licking up drops of wine from his chest, occasionally pouring more onto him when she ran out. The Redhead’s mouth was around his cock, licking and sucking in the most mind-numbingly pleasurable ways. The other Blonde -for he refused to have anyone with dark hair, should they look like her- had his lips locked with hers, their tongues dancing together. Robert himself was doing his best to divide his attention equally between the three. His fingers would slide between the other Blonde’s legs while his other hand massaged the Redhead’s breasts. Then he would focus his attention on the Blonde between his legs, making sure she was well repaid for her actions. All in all, it was settling in to be a great afternoon. 

Until it wasn’t. 

Jon Arryn burst through the door despite the protests of the guard. Robert could hear the boy calling after, ‘The King does not wish to be disturbed!’. At least he was following orders, that was a good sign. Robert just sighed as he turned his attention away from the women and over to the man who had raised him, not even bothering to pretend to be ashamed. The smallest of frowns traced his lips as the girls stopped their actions to look at the newcomer.

“You three, out. The guards will pay you. Robert for gods’ sake cover yourself up.” Jon Arryn was using his fatherly voice. It was the voice Robert had come to know that he meant business. He was not a friend when that voice came out, he was a Lord and a father. But now Robert was a King and no one, not even the man who raised him, could tell him what to do. The women slinked out of Robert’s arms and scurried around trying to find their clothing. They were out the door before Robert could protest.

“You can’t just barge in here like that. We were sort of in the middle of something, if you didn’t notice,” Robert snapped, sliding off the bed to snatch a robe from the floor and pull it on, agitated not only that Jon had barged in but also because he was deprived of the climax he was so eagerly looking forward to. 

“There is a Small Council meeting going on, I expected to see you there.” Lord Arryn was quick to get on with his point, knowing it was no good arguing with his new King. 

“You expected wrong. I have much better things to do than sit in a room with a bunch of celibate old men who get off on talking about coppers and gold,” Robert spat the words, as he walked over to the table to fill a cup with wine.

“Yes, I am sure your talents as King were being put to good use with those whores. Are they your spies? Everyone in this city seems to have some.” Robert refused to answer this, instead he focused on downing the entire cup of wine, and so Jon went on, “You can be a better King than this, Robert, I know you can. What would Lyanna say if she saw you now?”

All the warmth in the room seemed to be sucked out. Robert’s face grew deathly, his knuckles turning white where they clutched the back of a chair, “Lyanna is dead.”

“Yes, Robert, she is dead. This is no way to honor her memory. She would have wanted you to stay true to your promi-“ Jon stopped short as the chair Robert was holding onto seemed to explode. The King had pushed it over with such force that the wood splintered.

“DON’T YOU DARE PRESUME TO TELL ME WHAT SHE WOULD HAVE WANTED.” Robert’s face was red from the fury burning within him. He had spent the last few weeks since the news had reached him trying hopelessly to forget about her. No matter what he did, no matter how much he drank, no matter how many girls he brought to his bed, nothing seemed to work. Lyanna’s face was engraved in his memories. Her voice echoed in his mind. Their last day together played over and over again in his every waking moment. Even sleep brought no peace. She haunted his every dream. She would appear to him at night drenched in blood calling for help but no matter how hard he tried he could never reach her. Even the good dreams brought no comfort. At times, Robert would be able to hold her once more. She would settle in his arms, where she belonged, and he would kiss her as he used to do. But when day broke and the dream crumbled, he would find that these dreams were more painful than any others. It was these dreams that made him want to go to sleep and never wake up. It was these dreams that made him question life without her. And so, he avoided sleep at all cost. He would hire whores to stay up with him until he could no longer fight sleep. He would drink and drink and drink until he passed out. Robert Baratheon did anything he could to avoid the thought of Lyanna. 

And now Jon Arryn had the gall to come in and speak of her? Robert was furious. He wanted to hit someone. He wanted to break something. He wanted take his anger out on someone, anyone that wasn’t the man who raised him. But here he was, Jon Arryn putting himself right in the path of destruction. Robert threw his empty cup across the room, narrowly missing Jon’s head. 

“You think you can just come in here and tell me what she would have wanted?” Robert’s voice was shaking with anger or sorrow or pain, or perhaps a mix of all three. “You don’t know… you didn’t….” He was at a loss for words. His mind was foggy with wine, but mostly it was because he had no idea how to communicate the thoughts in his head through words. He turned away from Jon, pacing like a caged animal. Robert had spent the last weeks trying to forget her, but now in the matter of a few seconds everything came rushing back into his consciousness. He punched the stone wall, revelling in the pain that shot through his hand as he did so. Anything was better than the pain that Lyanna’s ghost could provoke. He shouted, he yelled obscenities, he kicked the broken chair and pushed over the table. He tried to bring up memories of killing Rhaegar to ease the pain, but that only seemed to make him angrier. The next thing he knew, Robert was on his knees blinking away the tears that threatened in his eyes. For a moment, he stared at his hands as they shook, just listening to the sound of his racing heart and trying not to think about the fact that his heart used to beat faster whenever she was near. It was possible that Jon Arryn was talking to him, but he couldn’t hear a word.

When he finally lifted his head to look at Jon, Robert’s voice was quiet, drained of all emotion, “Lyanna Stark died, and that part of me died with her.”


End file.
